Sympathetic Fibers
by tearsofamiko
Summary: AU Jibbs. When a Marine Gunnery Sergeant and his wife are killed, leaving their little girl as the only witness, Gibbs meets the ones who can change his life for good, if only he can see beyond the past.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Sympathetic Fibers

Author: Tearsofamiko

Rating: K+ (will likely rise)

Disclaimer: Don't own them, but they're ever so fun to play with.

Spoilers: No

Summary: AU Jibbs. When a Marine Gunnery Sergeant and his wife are killed, leaving their little girl as the only witness, Gibbs meets the ones who can change his life for good, if only he can see beyond the past.

A/N: I've decided to write an AU Jibbs tale! Might be slow going at points, because it's also kinda a casefic and I've never written a detailed one of those before. Try to have patience, especially since my classes start on Monday. I'll try my best, though; I got a really good outline, so actual writing shouldn't be too hard. Hints on writing are welcome, though. ;D

.:::.

"_We cannot live for ourselves alone. Our lives are connected by a thousand invisible threads, and along these sympathetic fibers, our actions run as causes and return to us as results."_ – Herman Melville

.:::.

"Jeff! Shelley! Kelsey! Hey, guys! Guys?"

Her voice echoed through the quiet house, the only response to her queries. Frowning at the unease filling her, she turned and shut the front door, closing out the half-lit yard. Glancing into the dining room, she took in the place settings on the table before turning and stepping into the family room.

"Jeff? Somethin' going on? Where—" The words caught in her throat as she registered the scene before her. Horror swept over her, froze her in place as she stared at the chaos and blood in the tastefully decorated room she knew so well. Tears welled in her eyes, thankfully obscuring the scene, and she felt her knees wobble, threatening to send her to the floor. Despite her training and experience, it was all too much and only by clinging white-knuckled to her resolve and the doorframe did she stay on her feet. She trembled, sobs building deep in her chest.

As the crimson light from the setting sun washed over the room, training took over and she took a shaking step forward into the room. Carefully avoiding the broken furniture, mentally recoiling from images of what might have happened, she made her way to the crumpled forms near the fireplace and knelt between them. With cold, numb fingers, she felt for the pulse points in their throats, stubbornly refusing to look into their dull, glassy eyes. A sob broke free as tangible proof confirmed what she already knew. Sinking back on her heels, the grief rolled over her, consuming her as she stared into the light of the setting sun.

When she finally found her way back to herself, the room was filled with the strange gray light of twilight and her feet were numb underneath her. A nagging thought fluttered at the back of her mind and she frowned, looking unseeingly at the chaos surrounding her. Then, with a gasp, she stumbled to her feet, tearing out of the room fast enough that her heels slid on the hardwood floor. She clambered up the stairs, bruising her knee once as she tripped before kicking her heels off and running through the hallway. Catching herself on a doorframe, she stared into the room, breath sobbing in her lungs as panic took control. Frozen in the doorway of the empty room, she forced herself to listen, to carefully search, holding her breath to hear better. Straining her ears, she slowly stepped into the room, a small sound raising hope within her chest. Her knees weakened again even as she threw herself toward the room's closet, collapsing in front of the door as she tugged it open.

"Kelsey!" she breathed in relief, clutching the sobbing child to her chest , too overwhelmed by everything to do more than cling to the warm body in her arms and let the tears come.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: This isn't as easy as some of you make it seem. ^^ Oh, and, possible heartbreak warning...

.:::.

The steady scrape of sandpaper and the smell of fresh sawdust filled the basement, a familiar counterpart to the steam rising from the coffee cup on the workbench and the farm report droning to itself on the TV. He ran the palm of his hand over the wooden beam, sweeping away the dust and noting any flaws on the surface. As he swiped the sandpaper over a burr, the monotonic trill of his cell phone cut through the air, drawing a sigh from him. Reluctantly, he set down the paper and moved to answer the phone, glancing at his watch as he did so. At seven-thirty on a Friday night, especially when it was supposed to be his first weekend free in almost a month, there'd better be a good reason for the call.

"Yeah, Gibbs," he answered, resisting the urge to sigh as he ran a hand over his face. "Yeah. Alright. Call Ziva and McGee. I'll meet you there in," he glanced down at the worn sweats and faded t-shirt he was wearing, "twenty minutes. And make sure Ducky knows where he's going." He snapped the phone shut and vaulted up the stairs, flipping off the lights as he went.

Twenty minutes and a brief stop for coffee later, he pulled up to the crime scene. Stepping out into the red and blue washed night, he made his way through the knots of emergency workers and strings of yellow tape and into the open door of the stately house, shivering slightly in the chill air. He briefly noticed a pale, dark-haired woman sitting on the back of an ambulance, cradling an equally pale, large-eyed child next to her, but paid them no mind; the witnesses would have to wait until he had a grasp of the situation. Narrowing his focus on the large room to the left of the front door, he stopped in the doorway, simply absorbing the scene within.

He wasn't surprised to see his team already in place, gathering evidence and documenting the various intricacies of the scene. Leaving them to their jobs, he made his way over to the victims. Something about their position, the man reaching out for the woman, even in death, pulled at him, held his attention as memories of long ago years flashed behind his eyes. He blinked and sighed harshly, turning away from the couple to take in the destruction in the room. Rubbing the back of his neck, he took a sip of coffee and stepped over to where his agents were gathering and documenting evidence.

"What do we have?" he asked the group at large. Three pairs of eyes rose to meet his and, predictably, DiNozzo jumped out of his crouched position to answer.

"Victims are Marine Gunnery Sergeant Jefferson Shepard and his wife, Shelley. Call came in to the Annandale Emergency Service around 6:30–"

"Who placed the call?" Gibbs interrupted.

"Uh," Tony flipped a page in his notebook, "Commander Jennifer Shepard, the victim's sister."

Gibbs nodded and took another sip of his coffee, his pointed stare indicating DiNozzo should continue.

"Uh, Local LEOs arrived and secured the scene. EMTs confirmed the couple was dead." Frowning, the ex-Marine glanced around the room at the debris surrounding the dead, only vaguely paying attention to Tony's report. Nothing ruined a crime scene faster than dedicated emergency workers. "Commander Shepard insisted NCIS be called to investigate. Hey, someone actually recognized our existence!" Tony remarked, cheered by the revelation.

Gibbs rolled his eyes and turned away, picking a path through the scattered fragments of furniture as he headed back to the foyer. Just as he reached the doorway, his name was called and he glanced over his shoulder at the speaker.

"Um, Boss?" Tony seemed unusually hesitant. "The Gunny and his wife... They had a daughter." Gibbs simply stared at him, a keen look telling him he'd better get to the point soon. "She's eight. She saw almost everything that happened."

.:::.

Jen Shepard had never felt so out of control in her life. She stared blankly down the driveway to the once quiet street her brother had made his home on, the EMTs and police moving around her in a blur of color and sound. She had no control over anything happening in the blue-red washed night, not since she had very vocally insisted NCIS be called. And she really didn't even care that everything around her was moving without her personal touch on the situation. The only thing that mattered now was the small warm body clinging to her side and the knowledge that she was now the only person in the world that little girl had left.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a darkly-dressed, silver-haired man step out of the house just as yet another large van pulled up behind the police cars cluttering the yard. She lets her thoughts drift as the driver of the van climbed out and entered into a conversation with the man from the house. She glanced down at the little girl next to her, reached a hand over and combed her fingers through the loose auburn curls, a small sad smile gracing her face. She closed her eyes for a half-second, saw Jeff's face flash without permission behind her eyes as her arm tightened around the small body next to her. Feeling a presence close by, she snapped her eyes open and gasped at the nearness of the man.

The bright green eyes illuminated by the ambulance's lights were a shock, leaving him slightly bemused for a second. He blinked once to break the spell and took in the rest of her appearance. Natural red-hair, pulled back into a ponytail. A gray suit and green shirt, specially chosen to highlight her creamy skin and emerald eyes, and impossibly high heels painted a picture of a strong, driven woman. Her face was unnaturally pale, though, her eyes large and dark with the trauma and knowledge of what she'd seen. He recognized that look, had seen it hundreds of times in the eyes of a thousand different witnesses, had even seen it in the mirror a few times. She returned his scrutiny with a solemn expression, strong even in her grief, and he was struck by her fortitude.

"Commander Shepard? I'm Jethro Gibbs. I'd like to ask you a few questions?" He kept his voice pitched low, employing the usual tactics for dealing with witnesses. Shepard favored him with a calculating look for a few moments before nodding her assent. "You were the one who discovered the bodies."

"Yes, I—" Her voice caught for a second and she swallowed sharply before continuing. "I was supposed to have dinner with Jeff and Shelley tonight. Their, uh, anniversary was last weekend and I couldn't get away from work to celebrate it with them. Dinner this weekend was supposed to make up for that." Her chin trembled as she paused, and she pressed her lips tightly together as she fought for control.

"About what time?"

She cleared her throat softly, swallowed again as she considered his question. Watching her, he had the strangest urge to pull her into his arms and offer what little comfort he had within his broken heart. "I, uh, was supposed to be here at five, but Dale needed my opinion on something. It took about thirty minutes, so I didn't get here until," she swallowed sharply and he knew she was thinking about what had happened before she arrived, "about five-thirty."

"Why didn't you call it in until six-thirty?"

"Um, I checked to see if there was anything I could do for Jeff and Shelley. I'm, uh, a doctor, chief of surgery at Bethesda. But, there was nothing I could do...they were still warm..." Her face crumpled and Gibbs feared she'd finally lost the tenuous control she had on the situation. After a moment, though, she blinked furiously and returned her steady gaze to his face. Faced with the anguish within her shadowed emerald eyes, he had to scramble slightly to refocus on the questions he was asking. "After I confirmed they were, uh...I had to—had to find her, to make sure she was safe." A hint of hysteria filtered into her dulcet tones.

"Kelsey?" he asked to confirm. His speaking the name caused a reaction he would never have foreseen.

The little girl curled up next to Shepard stirred suddenly, her head shooting up from its position against the older woman, wild eyes scanning the area with almost animal urgency. A whimpering keen rose from the child's throat, a heartbreaking sound that tore at Gibbs' heart. As he caught the terror in her wide blue-green eyes – eyes so similar to those he'd so cherished years ago – his breath caught in his chest and he was catapulted into images from his darkest nightmares. He stared unseeingly at the frightened child as her aunt tried to pull her in her arms, tried to soothe away the demons so recently acquainted with one too innocent for such fears.

"Shh-shh, Kel. Shh-shh-shh. Hush, honey. Hush, hush. Come on, baby. Shh," the Commander crooned in the little girl's ear, gently firm arms and soothingly soft hands running up and down the child's back and through her hair, lulling her quiet once more. The older woman was swaying slightly in time to the quiet tune she began humming under her breath, a familiarly lilting lullaby that struck him to the soul, even as he felt his heart crack at the single tear that traced its way down her cheek. "Toora, loora, loora. Toora, loora, li. Toora, loora, loora. Hush, now don't you cry..."

An EMT moved in next to him, nudging him out of the way as he ran a quick check of the hysterical child. "I'm sorry, Agent Gibbs, but we need to take her to the hospital and check her out. I'm sorry."

He didn't even notice as he was herded out of the way, didn't complain as the doors of the ambulance were shut and secured and the vehicle drove away, lights whirling as it headed out into the sleepy neighborhood street. He stared sightlessly after the it, the soft strains of the lullaby echoing within his mind, sung by a different voice, at a different time, to a different little girl.

"_Toora, loora, loora. Toora, loora, li. Toora, loora, loora. Hush now don't you cry. Shh-shh, Kelly, shh-shh. It's okay, Daddy's gotcha. Daddy's gotcha. Shh..."_

.:::.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I just wanted to clarify something: the little girl is not Gibbs' daughter. ^^ She just looks very similar to Gibbs' daughter, similar enough that she kind of...haunts Gibbs...

.:::.

The doors opened with a hiss as he stepped into Autopsy's cool embrace. The reassuring normalcy of the action helped him center on the case and take a step back from the emotions it invoked.

"Whatcha got, Duck?" he asked as he moved to stand between the tables holding Gunnery Sergeant Shepard and his wife.

"Goodness, Jethro, I've only just started. Give me a chance." The older man turned to level a searching look on his friend. "You seem unusually keen to learn about Gunny Shepard. I wonder if it's—"

"Do you have anything, Doctor Mallard?" Gibbs cut in sharply, blue eyes flinty underneath the intense halogen lights.

Ducky stared at him for a second, projecting an air of patient curiosity and compassion, then turned to face the tables. "Preliminary findings indicate that both the Gunny and his wife had their wrists bound. See the bruising here and here?" he gestured. "Mrs. Shepard, however, also shows evidence of being gagged; there are abrasions at the corners of her mouth and along her cheeks, possibly indicating that a towel or rope, something rough, was used. Both were dispatched by a simple gunshot to the right temple, brutally effective and efficient."

"Defensive wounds?" Gibbs pressed.

"Ah, yes. It appears that the Gunny did not go down without a fight." Ducky lifted Shepard's hand and pointed a gloved finger at the man's knuckles. "He landed a few hits on his assailants before they managed to subdue him with a blow to the head," he informed, indicating bruising along the man's left temple. Laying the Gunny's arm back on the table, Ducky turned to gesture toward the other table. "Mrs. Shepard appears only to have been roughly handled."

Gibbs stared at the bodies for a second, lost in thought, before blinking and turning sharply on his heel and heading for the doors.

"Call me when you know more, Duck," he threw over his shoulder.

Ducky shook his head and leaned to look his guest in the face. "He's a little rough around the edges, but he means well, Gunny," he whispered conspiratorially. "He'll find out what happened to you and the missus. Why, I remember, years ago, there was this one case..."

.:::.

"David," he barked as he stepped off the elevator and the sharp sound echoed in the mostly empty squad-room. Ziva jumped out of her chair as he strode to his desk. "Find out which hospital Kelsey Shepard was taken to. I want you to stay at the hospital with her."

"But Gibbs--!" she protested, her expression a mix of outrage and disgust. He glanced at her, a steady, serious gaze, and a frown formed on her face as she sank back into her chair and picked up the phone. He briefly wondered what she'd seen in his eyes and just as quickly decided he didn't want to know. He settled himself behind his desk and pulled out a folder.

"D'you think whoever came after her parents'll go after her?" DiNozzo asked. Another steady glance, this time focused on his second in command, and that question was dismissed just as Ziva's was.

As Ziva ended her phone call and left, he rubbed a hand across his face, glanced down at the open file on his desk, and pushed himself to his feet. "What do we got?"

McGee cued up the plasma screen, flashing through pictures of the scene at a fast clip as he spoke. "No signs of anything missing from the home. A, uh, casserole was sitting on the counter in the kitchen, the oven was hot, and the table was set. No signs of forced entry; the front door was unlocked," he recited.

"Before she left, Commander Shepard said she was supposed to eat dinner with them. Would explain the unlocked door and the casserole," Gibbs surmised, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"They weren't expecting it," DiNozzo said, his expression open as he craned his neck to look at the screen from his seat.

"Ya think, DiNozzo?" Gibbs couldn't help but snap, and he almost regretted the shamed look that flashed across his subordinate's face. Tony was quiet for a moment as he turned a page in his notes, his face closed and solemn.

"There were, uh, three messages on the answering machine. One from the local Blockbuster about an overdue DVD. One from one of Gunnery Sergeant Shepard's co-workers, mentioning a time change for a meeting on Monday, something about an inquiry proposal? And one from the Commander letting them know she'd be late to dinner; she sounded surprised, kinda joked that they were screening their calls before she left her message," he read off in a quiet voice, never once looking up from the papers.

"Call his C.O., find out about that inquiry."

"Already tried. C.O.'s out of town till Monday. The, uh, secretary I talked to is going to fax us the pertinent papers tomorrow, as soon as she gets in," DiNozzo countered. "She also said she'd find out where the C.O.'s staying, let him know we need to talk to him."

"Good job, DiNozzo." Though it's gruffly delivered, Tony saw the apology for what it was and a small grin ghosted across his face. "Computer, McGee?"

"Down in Abby's lab. The files are mirroring..." he trailed for a second, a serious expression on his face as he took in Gibbs' pointed look and started to rise out of his chair, "so I should go down there and get started digging."

"Wait." The single word froze both agents in their seats, looking at him for the next command. "Both of you, go home. No idea how tough this'll be; get some sleep while you can." He was met with shocked expressions before they finally snapped out of it and began gathering their things, still watching him with wary eyes. "Be in 0800 tomorrow. No later," was his last command as they headed to the elevator.

"See ya, Boss," Tony said at the same time McGee wished him a good-night. They hurried through the open doors of the elevator, not even waiting till the doors'd closed to begin their whispered conversation about his actions. Shaking his head, Gibbs headed to the other elevator.

.:::.

Even at quarter till midnight, the music from Abby's lab thrummed through the halls as the elevator let him off on her floor. He could barely hear himself think as he stepped through the doors of her domain, but he opted not to head immediately to the music player. Instead, he walked up behind her as she typed something on her computer and placed his hands on her shoulders, smirking as she nearly jumped out of her skin.

"God, Gibbs, you scared the crap out of me," she shouted, smacking a remote laying on her worktable and lowering the volume. "Didn't your momma teach you not to sneak up on people?" she demanded as she whirled to face him, her pigtails brushing across his chest.

"Obviously not." He grinned unrepentantly until she smiled back in return. "Whatcha got?"

"Mm, nothing much yet. I've just started the fingerprint searches to see if any of the prints that were found don't belong and I don't have the bullets from Ducky to compare to the revolver Tony found." She peeked up at him through her bangs, a worried expression on her face. "Is it true their little girl saw everything?" she asked softly.

He hesitated for a second; a sensitive soul, Abby would be distraught if he told her what he was afraid had happened. "It's possible. We don't know yet. They're checking her out at the hospital, probably'll keep her overnight till we know for sure." He kept his voice gentle, but he was sure she picked up on the concern threaded into his words.

"D'you think I could send her something? A stuffed animal or something to make her feel better?"

"I'm sure she'd appreciate it, Abbs," he said, after a moment's consideration. She grinned at him, a lower wattage due to the sadness of the little girl's situation, but it was enough to ease a little of the trepidation in his own heart.

"I'll take it to the hospital tomorrow!" she said brightly, already planning the perfect gift to bring. Then she stopped for a second, looked around curiously, then turned back to him. "What, no Caf-Pow!?"

"Anything here that needs your attention tonight?" he asked instead of answering. She glanced over her shoulder, punched a few keys on the keyboard, then shook her head 'no.' "Go home, Abbs. You can start analyzing the rest tomorrow. Get some sleep."

She looked at him for a second, then nodded and turned to start shutting off machines. He smiled slightly as she grabbed her coat and purse and turned off the music. She grinned up at him as they waited for the elevator to arrive, a slightly goofy expression he knew was meant to cheer him, and it worked a little as he gestured for her to precede him into the elevator. When it reached the garage, he leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead before they went their separate ways, she to her car, he to his.

As he made his way down into his basement, intent on working for a little longer on his boat, he tried to keep the demons at bay by focusing on Abby's cheery expression. He told himself it was working, refused to believe otherwise, even as a pair of sorrowful emerald eyes and the hysterical sobbing of a little red-haired girl played through his mind on a repeating reel.

Hours later, he passed out under his boat, the level of bourbon in the bottle much lower and the pile of sawdust much deeper than they had been when he started.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Thanks to Aserene for sparking ideas about Dale. ^^ I just made them a little more...twisty. :D Oh, and, I didn't mean it to happen, but...heartbreak warning again...geez...^^ Maybe I should change the genre to 'angst.' But things should get better soon. - . -;

.:::.

Gibbs wasn't quite sure how long he'd been standing there, simply staring at the Commander. Judging by the temperature of the cups in his hands, not long, but he was bothered by the deviation in his plans. He usually didn't stand ogling his witnesses for interminable periods of time. He forgave himself by remembering the strong emotions involved in the case and the surprising beauty of the woman in question, despite the situation.

Mentally shaking himself back into focus, he took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, feeling unusually reluctant, yet strangely excited about speaking with her. however, as he moved to step out of his hiding place, a trim, dark-haired man in scrubs stepped up next to Jenny – _Commander Shepard_ he made himself think – and placed a hand on her arm, halting his movements as he watched the new development.

She was terrified to let Kelsey out of her sight. The clinical, detached part of herself knew that was a natural psychological response to yesterday's events, but she forced that part silent. Kelsey needed her, needed to see a familiar face, and Jen was more than happy to oblige. She leaned her head against the window-frame and wrapped her arms around herself, feeling strangely lost as she watched Ellie interact with Kelsey, trying to bring the little girl out of her daze. She jumped when a hand landed on her shoulder.

"Geez, sorry, Jen. I didn't mean to startle you, honey!" She felt a rush of emotion at the compassion in Dale Danson's gentle brown eyes. A fellow internist from their med-school days, Dale was her closest friend, the one person she could turn to when times got tough. "I just heard, sweetie. Are you okay? How're you holding up? Honey, have you been here all night!?" A quick glance through the window slowed his rapid-fire questions, even as he pulled her forward into his arms. "Oh, God, Kelsey isn't-- They didn't-- Jenny, why's Kelsey _here_?" he asked, gesturing to indicate the entire psych level.

She reveled in the warmth of his arms, even as it threatened to crumble the hold she had on her emotions. "Oh, God, Dale," she murmured into his shoulder, "somebody _killed_ Jeff and Shelley! I could have done something, I should have been there! And, Kelsey—" She pulled back to look him in the eye. "Dale, they think she saw it happen." She clung to her control with iron-will, refusing to let the tears come, as she saw the horror build in his eyes. He hugged her tight for a moment more before releasing her, though he left his hands on her shoulders.

"If you need _anything_, honey, call, okay? We'll keep the hounds at bay downstairs; the world won't end if you aren't there, alright?" She gave him a watery smile and squeezed the hands on her shoulders as he kissed her forehead before rushing off to the elevators full of determination, ready to pick up the slack for her in surgery and update everyone else.

Gibbs watched the entire exchange from his position down the hall, curious and vaguely envious of the man – _Dale_, his mind supplied rebelliously – and his relationship with the Commander. Shaking away the wayward thoughts and emotions, endeavoring to regain his professional demeanor, he moved down the hall toward the woman currently driving him to distraction.

"Commander Shepard? We met last night. I'm Jethro Gibbs," he greeted as he stopped next to her. She looked up at him with wide, tired eyes and, despite her day-old, wrinkled suit and draggled ponytail, he found himself entranced by her beauty and quiet strength. "Figured you could use this." He offered one of the cups he held and restrained a smile at the open longing he saw in her eyes.

"Is that Jamaican Blend?" she breathed, one hand twitching slightly as though to reach for it.

He simply set the cup down on the windowsill and took a sip of his own.

"Without cream and sugar?"

He just watched her over the top of his cup. Greedy hands shot forward to claim the cup on the sill and she held it near her face, simply inhaling the aroma for a moment before taking a sip. She groaned appreciatively as she graced him with a grateful look, forcing him to swallow back a completely inappropriate reaction to that sinful sound from her throat. He shifted slightly as her eyes slid back to the scene within the room.

"Can I ask you a few questions?" he murmured, not looking at her, hiding behind his job and his coffee-cup. He felt her take a deep breath and straighten her shoulders and took that as a 'yes.' "Did you see anything out of the ordinary on your brother's street last night?"

"No, but I wasn't looking for anything," she answered after thinking about it for a second. "The driveway was empty and I only passed one car on their street."

"Had you seen it before?"

"It was a dark SUV. Half the people on the street have SUVs. It was probably one of them." She was understandably skeptical. "And, no, I didn't see a license plate, so don't ask," she snapped sharply as he opened his mouth. At his pointed stare, she rolled her eyes. "I watch _CSI_ every Thursday night. And I'm not stupid." She spared him a cool look before returning her attention to the window. "Anything else, Agent Gibbs?"

He bit back a smile at her arch demeanor, then sobered as he considered his next question. "Do you know of anyone who'd want your brother dead?"

She went completely still, her hand tight around the paper cup of coffee, her arm cinched around her waist as if to hold herself together. He watched her closely as she struggled with her emotions and again felt an almost overwhelming urge to pull her into his arms and offer comfort. He could sense her turmoil, then her sudden strengthening as she steeled herself to answer.

"Everybody loved Jeff and Shelley. Jeff didn't handle anything sensitive and he wasn't ranked high enough to be a worthwhile target. Shelley was a child psychologist; she didn't even work for the military. I—" She broke off and looked at him with wide eyes. "Why would somebody do this? They were good people. Why, Jethro?" she begged him, turning his name into a plea as tears spilled down her face.

This time, he couldn't deny himself and pulled her into his arms after setting their cups on the windowsill. He held her tight as she clung to him, her face buried in his shoulder. He tried to focus entirely on comforting her, tried not to notice the feel of her lithe body against his or the way she fit perfectly in his arms, tried to forget the way his name sounded in her mouth. As she trembled with the strain of everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours, he held her close and felt his world shift.

A sharp sigh snapped them back to reality and Jen drew back as a young, gentle-faced woman exited Kelsey's room and leaned against the door-frame, rubbing her forehead. Gibbs unobtrusively edged sideways, placing himself slightly out of the way to allow the two women to talk with some semblance of privacy.

"Ellie?" There was a trace of desperation in Jen's voice that had him paying close attention to the conversation.

"There's nothing physically wrong with her," the other woman – a doctor, Gibbs realized – said, her words laced with frustration. She ran her fingers through her hair, holding the pale blonde strands off her neck in a loose ponytail as she spoke. "Mariah checked her out and made sure of that, so that's one blessing. But...she's not _there_." Ellie's brow was furrowed, etching a worry line deep between intense blue eyes. "Josh tried to talk to her last night, right after she got here, and you saw what happened. She panicked, again from what the EMTs said when they brought her in with you. And no one's been able to reach her since then and all of us – well, all the women, even the nurses – have tried. Lissandra came the closest, I think." The blonde glanced up and saw the sad understanding on Jen's face.

"Lissandra has long, black hair, right?" the Commander asked.

"Yeah. Not much taller than you, dark hair, the All-American mom."

"I've seen her downstairs occasionally, or in the cafeteria. Shelley had black hair, looked kinda like Lissandra." Jen sighed, a soul-deep sound, and Gibbs could see the tension corded across her shoulders. "So...?"

"Josh wants to keep her here until we can figure this out," Ellie answered, a remorseful expression on her face.

"Damn. Yeah, I get it." Jen sighed again and scrubbed a hand over her face. "I was hoping...It's probably for the best at this point, anyway. All of her things are still part of the...the crime scene and I don't have anything for her yet, so..." she trailed off, covering her face with her hands.

"Hey. We're here for you, okay?" the psychiatrist told her and Jen nodded. She let the other woman pull her into a loose hug, drawing comfort from the embrace. A beeper's shrill sound cut through the air and both women dug into their pockets to find their devices.

"Damn! Mr. Robertson's coded. Crap, Dale was right; they missed something last night." Jen glanced up at her friend as she shoved the beeper back into her pocket. "I gotta go, El. Call me?"

"Yeah, good luck."

"You, too." She cast one last longing look into her niece's room, before turning to head to the elevators, almost running into Gibbs. "Agent Gibbs! I forgot you were there. You heard what Dr. Paulson said?"

"Yeah. I can come back and talk to Kelsey when she's better. You'll call me?" he said, not really a request as he handed her a card. She nodded and shoved the card into her pocket. "You better go." She flashed him a brief smile before hurrying down the hallway.

He stood in the hallway outside the little girl's room, holding Jen's place guarding the waif-like creature sitting motionless on the hospital bed. He let the ebb and flow of his memories and observations wash over him, let it draw him away from the present as he thought of young, innocent, red-haired little girls and leggy, spirited, red-headed women. Time passed without meaning for a little while and he didn't care that he had a case to oversee or a team that would be wondering where he was. He just watched the silent child within the room and remembered.

After a while, he sighed and ran a hand over his face. The coffees on the sill were ice-cold and he pitched them in a nearby trashcan before carefully stepping into the room he'd watched. Without a word, he reached a hand inside his jacket and withdrew a small box. He turned the knob on the bottom a few times and set the item down on the bed-side table before gently flipping open the top. The soft strains of a lullaby, the same one Jen had murmured to the little girl the night before, filtered into the room and the barest ghost of a smile flitted across his face as he turned to leave. He was in the doorway when movement behind him caught his attention and he turned to look over his shoulder.

Wide blue-green eyes, dark with fear and confusion, met his, sending a shockwave through his system. He stared at her, uncomprehendingly, for what seemed the longest time. Then, in a tremulous voice that threatened to send him to his knees, she spoke.

"Where's Momma?" she asked and he couldn't answer her. He could only stare as he began to realize what had happened. "I want my Momma," she repeated and, when he didn't answer, tears filled her eyes. "Where's my Jenny? Where's Momma? Please?!" she begged, and all he could do was watch as doctors rushed in as she fell apart, while the notes of the lullaby played on.


	5. Chapter 5

Despite its length, this is really more of a filler chapter than anything else. I needed to broaden the relationships and present more of the findings, thus the incredibly long chapter that doesn't actually tell you very much. :D And, dang, but it took a while to get right. ^^ Oh! Abby's complicated scientific rambling later on is ChemGuide's explanation of a mass spectrometer; not mine. :D

.:::.

"Tony! I swear, if you do that again, I'll—" Ziva cut herself off, unwilling to really make threats. She rolled her eyes as her partner leaned back in his chair with his hands behind his head, looking completely smug as he watched her from across the room. She stared at him for a second, then turned back to the file spread across her desk, flipping through the pages in search of a lead. Just as her eyes caught on a familiar name, another paperwad – the third in an hour alone – hit her forehead, bouncing to land innocently next to her stapler. She glanced up at her partner, murder in her eyes, and chuckled softly, evilly at his mock-courageous expression. "You have work to be doing, _yes_?"

He favored her with a considering look, then leaned forward, planting his elbows on his desktop and resting his chin on his hands. "I do, but that's not the point." He stood and stepped around his desk to lean against the front. "The point is: _where_ is Gibbs? And why isn't he here?" He crossed his arms and made a show of looking around the room. "Any theories?"

Ziva just sighed and turned back to her papers, but McGee sat back in his chair to consider the question. "Well...maybe he's...getting coffee?"

"It's 10:30, McGizmo. He hasn't been in at all today. _I_ had to get Abby a Caf-Pow! earlier because he hasn't even been to see her yet. No way is he getting coffee." Tony turned to flash Ziva a 'he's crazy' look and rolled his eyes. "Next."

"Maybe he's interviewing suspects?" Ziva offered, almost against her will.

"What suspects? He hasn't called, either, so he hasn't gotten an update from any of us. Besides, he wouldn't go without us to guard his back. Nope."

"Well...what about Commander Shepard?" McGee suggested.

"The sister? What's she got to do with it?" Tony looked confused by the suggestion.

"She is very pretty," Ziva commented.

"And she's a red-head," McGee added.

Tony considered for a moment. "McGoogle, pull up her file."

Grumbling slightly under his breath, McGee did as Tony asked, calling the Commander's military file and photo up on the plasma. The three gathered in front of the screen, each trying to connect the professional image from the file with the sad, silent woman they'd seen in person.

"Nice," Tony finally drawled and Ziva slapped the back of his head. "What? She is! And red hair! Ha!" he crowed. "I bet Gibbs is with her. Ya know?" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Tony! She lost her brother! You insensitive clog!"

"It's clod, Ziva, and," he cocked his head at her, "that's something Kate would've said. Huh." He was distracted by that, his eyes vague. Ziva watched him, a sharp, contemplative look on her face, wondering about his sudden preoccupation. "Anyway, do you think she had anything to do with the murders?"

"I don't know, DiNozzo, why don't you ask her yourself," Gibbs said, breezing past Ziva's desk and sitting behind his own, as the team scrambled to return to their seats. Commander Shepard, dressed in a crisp uniform, followed behind him, seeming both slightly unsure, yet completely comfortable with the situation. She stood at the corner of Gibbs' desk, silent and still, as the others stared. Gibbs glanced up from his computer screen, took one look at his team, and cleared his throat sharply, withholding a smirk as they all jumped. "McGee, take her down to Abby."

"Boss...?" Gibbs leveled a pointed stare at the younger agent and McGee jumped out of his chair. "Right. Commander, right this way," he gestured and led her to the elevators.

"DiNozzo, David, tell me you have something."

"Ah, um, there's, uh," Tony tried as he flipped through the papers on his desk. "I have it, Boss, it's here, I just –"

"David."

She gracefully rose from her chair and pressed a button on the plasma's remote. "No unusual charges on Gunnery Sergeant Shepard's accounts. No exceptional deposits recently made. No signs, at all, that he was part of a plot or scheme of any kind." She pressed another button and the image displayed on the screen changed, revealing various ownership papers. "However, their house is worth almost $1.5 million, he drives a 2007 BMW X3 Sport Utility, she drives a 2007 Mercedes, and they also own a 2005 Corvette." She rolled her eyes as Tony moaned in appreciative longing. "Gibbs, a Gunnery Sergeant should not be able to afford these things."

"Well, Zee-vah, his wife _is_ a psychologist."

She gestured at the screen. "Tony! They do not earn enough to afford the house, let alone the three cars."

Tony opened his mouth to fire back a snide remark, but Gibbs interrupted. "DiNozzo, pull up a personnel search."

"Sure, Boss. Who on?" he asked as he pulled up the correct window and rerouted it to the plasma.

"Colonel Jasper Shepard."

Tony and Ziva stared in shock at the plasma, reading the figures presented in the file the search yielded. The late colonel's estate had been divided between his children, setting them both up with more than respectable bank accounts.

"Whoa. That explains the house," Tony finally managed.

"And the three cars," Ziva added.

Gibbs looked at them for a moment, then stood and headed to the elevators, swatting the back of DiNozzo's head as he passed.

"You better've found where you put your info by the time I get back, DiNozzo, or I'll find a new place to put my foot."

"On it, boss," came the slightly distracted reply, as Tony began digging through the file on his desk again.

.:::.

"....and then the ions are deflected by a magnetic field according to their masses. The lighter they are and the more positive the charge of the ion, the more they get deflected. Get it? And deflection leads directly to detection, which is where the Major here records the number of deflections and uses that to tell me what the chemical is."

Gibbs walked in to see the Commander listening with – admirably – only slightly glazed eyes to Abby's explanation about her machinery. He stood silently in the doorway for a second, simply watching the scene and the play of emotions over her face as the topic of conversation moved past Abby's machines and onto other topics. He hid a smile at the way the almost regal military woman was fiddling with one of the buttons on her uniform as she sat on the stool, legs crossed at the knee, looking distinctly child-like and wholly appealing. She vaguely reminded him of Hollis, along with another pert red-head, and he shoved that thought away as soon as it occurred to him. He and Hollis hadn't parted well and he still regretted it; the other he refused to contemplate right now. Shaking away his thoughts, he stepped farther into the room.

"Gibbs!" Abby crowed as she registered his presence in the room. "I was just telling Jenny – Commander Shepard – about my machines and she mentioned some of the things she uses as a surgeon, even though I recognized a lot of them from Ducky, but it was okay, because I liked talking to her and I –" she rambled, far faster than her normal speeds and Gibbs knew it was because of the impact the case was having on him and the suddenly tense air that filled the lab. He felt his gut clench at the soft amusement he saw in the Commander's eyes at Abby's rant even as he envied the lab tech her easy use of the other woman's first name. Plastering a weak grin on his face, he raised a hand to stem the flow of conversation.

"Abby." She was instantly silent as he spoke her name, a soft smile on her face as she read his eyes for hints on his mood. She glanced briefly at the Commander as the silence stretched for a moment, filled only by the dull roar of Abby's favorite genre playing on the sound system. "Commander, would you –"

"Agent Gibbs, please." She smiled softly and he saw the emotion reach her eyes to mix with the sorrow. "Call me Jen. I have a feeling we'll be seeing a lot of each other for a while and titles can get awkward."

An involuntary grin curved his lips at her words and he thought he might've seen a calculating glint shine in Abby's eyes for a moment. "Right, then. Jenny, I need you to go through some of the pictures taken at the scene and tell us if you notice anything missing." He gestured over at McGee, who stood and moved to the computer father inside Abby's lab.

"You think it was a robbery?" Jen asked, as he wondered at the light dusting of color across her cheeks.

"We're not ruling anything out." She nodded and followed McGee, the sliding door closing them in with a hiss. He turned to Abby, decidedly ignoring the animated light shining in her eyes. "Whatcha got, Abbs?"

She grinned unabashedly at him, cutting her eyes at the glass door to the inner lab. "'Jenny', Gibbs? Very sweet." He stared at her, one eyebrow raised, and she grinned again before turning to her computer. "Ducky pulled two bullets from the victim and neither matches this revolver. It's registered to Gunny Shepard," she added as an aside. "Um, no blood or DNA present from anyone but the Shepards." She clicked another window on the screen. "There were two sets of unknown prints found at the house, one set on the outside doorknob and one on the banister." She pulled up pictures of each location and pointed to the prints. "See here? There's actually an entire handprint on the doorknob, complete with four fingertip prints and a thumbprint, see, where someone opened the door. So, find me an intruder and I could place his entire hand at the crime." She turned to look at him.

"Did you run them through..."

"Run 'em through AFIS?" she finished for him. "It's searching."

"Feisty and psychic," he commented in return, watching the screen and enjoying her amusement.

"It's a killer combination."

"Anything else?" he asked, though he didn't expect a positive answer; she would've told him if she did.

"Nope," she chirped, then abruptly sobered. "How's the little girl?"

He sighed as he once again considered how much to tell her about Kelsey Shepard. "Good news is, she's okay. Not hurt at all, just scared and confused. Bad news – we may never know if she saw it happen." At Abby's confused look, he sighed again and rubbed a hand over his forehead. "She doesn't remember what happened and she panics when anyone tries to ask her about it. Doctors say it's repression because of the trauma." Abby gasped, a hand flying to cover her mouth as tears welled in her eyes.

"Oh, Gibbs..." she murmured brokenly. He pulled her forward into his arms, resting a hand on the back of her head, to offer comfort.

"Jenny managed to tell her about her parents, so she knows but she doesn't remember." His arms tightened around her as he remembered the all-consuming misery that had wracked the child as Jenny held her. Ellie Paulson, the psychiatrist, had had to give the girl a mild sedative to calm her down. "They're keeping her at the hospital a while longer, to keep an eye on her."

She stayed in his arms a few heartbeats longer, then pulled back, sniffling slightly and wiping carefully at her eyes. "Okay. You need to go, Gibbs. I've got to work. I need to figure out who did this. For the little girl. And Jenny." She shoved at his shoulders and he gave her a small smile as he stepped over to where McGee and Jen were.

Jen's green eyes were haunted as she rose and looked up at him, their documentation of her brother's house having been almost brutally thorough. McGee kept his head down, making notes for the casefile, avoiding what might happen next.

"Did you have to go through their _bedroom?!_" she demanded of him, tears sparkling along the edges of her eyelashes despite her anger. "Did you get a thrill pawing through Shelley's clothes? What about Kelsey's room? _Huh?!_ Did you expect to find classified documents hidden under her _mattress?!_" She struck out at him and he let the angry blows rain against his chest for a moment before carefully gathering her hands in his. "They were good people, dammit! _Good people._ They don't deserve this. God, _why?!_" she begged and he knew she didn't just mean the investigation.

She collapsed against him and he wrapped his arms around her as she sobbed against his chest. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a wide-eyed McGee move to stand behind Abby, ready to offer her support as she watched the scene with dark, sad eyes. He focused on holding Jenny tightly, knowing that this time was different than it had been in the hospital. Seeing the clinical pictures taken by impersonal agents had finally made it real and the thorough investigation of her loved ones' home was insult added to injury. Yet, standing there holding her in his arms, Gibbs was suddenly struck by an odd realization: _this_, this desire to protect and defend this woman despite her still – technically – being a suspect, had been why Tony had apologized to Paula Cassidy in Gitmo all those years ago. He pondered that vaguely as, gradually, her tears subsided and she pulled away. The shamed expression painting her face pulled at him as much as her damp cheeks and glistening eyes.

"I'm sorry. It was— I just..." she tried, her cheeks reddening as she spoke. She broke off, frowning, then tried again. "I'm sorry for what I said. I know you're just doing your job."

Without thinking about it, he raised a hand to cup her face, rubbing away the tear tracks with his thumb. She tilted her face into the touch and her eyelids drooped, half-hiding the brilliant green of her eyes. Time seemed to stretch as he stared down at her, wholly aware of her body against his and the searing warmth building in the sudden tension around them. His mouth went dry as she lazily blinked at him and he swallowed harshly, unable to help a swift glance at her mouth.

Losing all sense of time and place, he would've given into his desires, but for a well-timed clatter from across the lab that shattered the spell. They jumped apart, unable to meet the other's eyes for a few awkward moments. Gibbs saw Abby moving between the table and her computer, studiously avoiding looking at them as she documented something; McGee was nowhere to be found. Clearing his throat, he turned to look at Jenny.

"Let's go upstairs and get your statement," he suggested, his voice lower than he meant it to be.

She nodded and moved to head to the elevator as he followed her, a hand hovering at the small of her back. He caught Abby's gleeful wave and paused in the doorway.

"Quiet," he signed, referring to the tense...something that had just passed, staring pointedly at her.

Her eyes simply shone with amusement.


	6. Chapter 6

Sorry for the wait...I didn't have power for a while and then my cable-internet connection was gone...then I had to play catch-up for school...man, I hate ice...^^ Nice, long chapter in apology. Oh, and I made a teensy change in chapter three to make something fit a little better; it's not important, but I thought I'd mention it.

.:::.

"What are we--?" Jen started as the elevator doors slid open to reveal, not the bullpen, but a sterile hallway. Gibbs stepped out, gesturing for her to follow. "Where are we, Jethro?"

He turned to face her and she forced herself to ignore the runnel of heat that soared through her as he settled his hands on her shoulders. The strange magnetic pull and curious sense of familiarity she felt around him was odd; she thought she'd long since buried her desires beneath her work ethic. She wondered at it even as she stared up into his blue eyes.

"Jen, I need you to stay out here," he told her, as serious and solemn as she'd yet to see him.

"But, Jethro, I –"

"Please?"

She didn't know anything about him aside from what she'd seen, but something about him – the gleam in his eyes at the moment or the way his team reacted to him – told her that he didn't say 'please' often. She stared at him, tried to read the unreadable emotions deep in his eyes. Silently, she nodded, his touch and seriousness having stolen her voice. He searched her eyes and nodded in return before turning to walk through a set of automated doors.

"Ah, Jethro!" she heard a genial voice call out before the doors swished shut, muting the voices and leaving her alone in the hallway.

.:::.

"Ah, Jethro!" Ducky greeted. "I wondered when I'd be seeing you back down here. I finished with the Gunny and his lovely wife over an hour ago."

Gibbs was almost unsure how to proceed. Ducky gave no indication he remembered the sharp way Gibbs had acted the night before and the ex-Marine knew from experience how effectively the ME could make his displeasure with Gibbs' action known. Thinking for a moment, he decided it would be better to be safe than sorry.

"Sorry, Duck." The ME's eyebrows shot up, but he accepted the words and nodded, brushing aside the matter to refocus on the case. "Got some good news for me?"

"That depends on your definition of 'good news.'" Ducky moved to pick up his clipboard and consulted his notes. "I found evidence indicating that Mrs. Shepard was killed first, around 5:15 I'd say. Her husband was killed about ten minutes later. When were they discovered?"

"About 5:30," Gibbs answered, frowning as he considered how close Jenny had been to walking in on the murders and how much that bothered him. "Jenny said they were still warm when she found them."

"Oh, I wouldn't doubt it." Ducky frowned, concern lining his face and reflecting in his eyes. "How is Dr. Shepard?"

"You two know each other?"

"Jordan—uh, Dr. Hampton has mentioned her once or twice." At Gibbs' pointed look, he explained further. "As a Maryland Coroner, they had dealings occasionally, normally when a patient failed to make it."

Gibbs glanced over his shoulder at the doors before answering the original question. "She's fine. Worried about her niece."

"Ah, yes. The poor dear."

"Anything else, Duck?" He needed to wrap this up soon; Jenny wouldn't wait for long and he didn't want her to.

"Ah, yes." Ducky crossed to the freezer drawers and pulled one open, revealing the dark, still beauty of Shelley Shepard. "See these bruises here?"

Gibbs leaned to get a look at the mottled bruising on the woman's upper arms, staring at the coloration until he realized what Ducky meant. Angling his head, he caught the ME's knowing gaze. "Handprints."

"Precisely." The single word sent a spear of ice through Gibbs, even as Ducky continued on about the marks. He drifted out of focus, staring at Shelley's closed eyes and still face, and let the ME's words wash over him as he barely kept the rage restrained. He caught the tail-end of Ducky's explanation and managed to get himself under control. "—combined with the ligature marks around her wrists and mouth indicate that she was most definitely restrained for a period of time."

"Fingerprints?" Gibbs asked, straightening, as the anger subsided to a more manageable level.

Ducky nodded. "And fiber samples. I'd just sent Mr. Palmer up to Abby with them when you arrived. She'll have the answers for you in time."

They both turned to look at the doors as they swished open to admit Commander Shepard. Immediately and discretely, Ducky moved to block her view of the open freezer drawer, preventing her from seeing her sister-in-law on an autopsy slab.

"Hello, my dear, you must be Commander Shepard," Ducky greeted genially while gesturing furtively behind his back. Gibbs got the message and carefully slid the drawer shut, latching it securely. Jen peered curiously around the ME before replying.

"Yes." She smiled brightly and Gibbs wondered if he was the only one who saw the tired frays and minute cracks in her poised shell. "And you are?"

"Donald Mallard, ME," he replied, taking her hand and leading her toward his desk. "You can call me 'Ducky.'"

"Ducky?" she queried, letting him steer her across the room.

"Yes, it was something I was tagged with in school in my youth. I used to resent it. Now I quite like it."

"So do I," she smiled and Gibbs was glad to see the genuine emotion in her eyes. Ducky smiled back and patted her hand.

"We'll see you later, Duck," Gibbs said, ignoring the surprise he saw in the Commander's face at his abrupt tone. The older man nodded and Gibbs looked at Jen.

A spark of defiance lit her green eyes and brought out the roses in her complexion, painting her with a sort of vengeful glory. The sudden change in her was like a punch to the gut, leaving him reeling for a second as images from the past assaulted him.

_Shannon, after one of their more memorable fights, with her flushed cheeks and shimmering eyes, glaring at him from across the room._

He blinked and, for a second, past and present stood side by side, all glorious red-headed fire. He turned away without a word and headed to the elevator, simply assuming she would follow. Sure enough, she slid into the elevator just before the doors closed.

"Was that really necessary?" she asked, still sounding irritated. He raised an eyebrow at her anger, blocking out the memories to enjoy the display. She stepped closer and poked a finger in his chest. "Hmm?"

He gathered her fingers in one hand and moved into her personal space. "I told you to stay outside," he murmured, his voice gruff and lower than he intended.

She swallowed and glanced down at his mouth before gazing back up into his eyes. In the small space of the elevator, the air became heavy and dense, so much more so than it had been in the lab. The scant inches between them thrummed with intense energy, a magnetic pull he had trouble finding reasons not to obey. She shifted in front of him and leaned back against the elevator wall. His fingers itched to touch her and he reluctantly tore his gaze away from where it had landed on her mouth to stare into her eyes. The clear jade-green was alluring, but the instant cold steel shone in them, he knew the moment had passed. The firm set of her jaw was just further proof.

"I don't take orders, Agent Gibbs." Her voice was low and husky, deadly in its intensity. "I give them."

He watched her eyes for a moment more before stepping back across the elevator. As the floor chime sounded and the doors slid open, he finally spoke, leaving her speechless behind him as he left.

"I didn't want you to see your sister on a slab."

.:::.

"So, do you think she's a suspect?"

Ziva looked up from her monitor and followed her partner's gaze to where Gibbs was leading Jenny to the conference rooms. She blinked and turned to face Tony, lifting a lazy eyebrow at his question.

"He would not be taking her to the conference rooms if she was," she remarked as she returned her attention to her screen.

Tony was persistent, though. "Yeah, but remember that cab-dude? You know, the one that drove in the dead guy to smuggle the other guy in?"

"We did not know he was an accomplice until later," she replied without looking up. "It is not the same."

"Yeah, but—"

She slammed a hand down next to her keyboard, effectively silencing him. Glaring at him through narrowed eyes, she took a deep breath through her mouth and released it in a growling hiss through her nose, the anger seeming to fall away from her. Her shoulders relaxed and she gave him a small, evil smile. "Have you found what you misset earlier?" she asked mildly.

He whipped out a piece of paper and sauntered over to her desk to wave it under her nose. "It's 'misplace' and, for your information—"

"Guys, guys, guys, you'll never guess what happened in the lab!" Abby appeared out of nowhere, a flurry of rapid speech and flapping hands. She opened her mouth to continue when something caught her attention and she froze. "Where's McGee?" she asked as she looked around their desks, completely sidetracked.

"How should we know?" Tony countered, frowning a confused, "well-duh" look. "What happened?"

Back on track, her hands began fluttering again. "It was _so_ hot! And sad. And completely sweet, in a totally gruff-kind-of-I'm-just-being-a-"gentleman" way. And she's a red-head, so it makes sense. And was completely adorable." She was practically vibrating with her excitement.

"Whoa, Abby, slow down!" Ziva grasped Abby's arms in an attempt to keep the tech from bouncing in place. "What are you talking about?"

"And who," Tony added.

"She got all mad and then sad because of the pictures and he was trying to comfort her and, and--" She paused to take a breath before delivering her bomb-shell. "They almost kissed," she pronounced seriously.

"Gibbs and—" Ziva started.

"—the Commander?" Tony finished. They exchanged a confused, shocked look.

Abby nodded enthusiastically, her pigtails swinging wildly. Before she could say anything more, though, McGee hurried over to his desk and began typing something on his computer. Curiously, they all moved to surround him.

"Whatcha doin', McGee?" Tony asked, peering over his shoulder.

The younger agent's mouth moved silently as he typed but nothing audible escaped. Tony looked up at Ziva, who shrugged and shook her head. Abby simply knelt next to McGee's chair and watched the text scroll across the screen and various windows as he typed.

"What d'you think he's doing," Tony wondered, as he and Ziva turned away to settle behind their own desks.

"I do not have the froggiest idea."

He frowned, amusement in his eyes, and shook his head. "'Foggiest,' Ziva. 'I don't have the _foggiest_ idea.'"

She shot him a glare, then turned to her monitor to continue reviewing the pictures she'd pulled up earlier. Tony watched her for a second, an eyebrow raised, before lounging back in his chair.

"I wonder what Gibbs is trying to find out," he mused, staring at the ceiling.

"Why you still have a job, DiNozzo."

Ziva stifled a chuckle as her partner sat straight up in his chair, causing it to immediately dump him into the floor.

"Right, Boss. Sorry," Tony muttered as he carefully pulled himself back up, digging through the papers on his desk. "Dammit, I had it here a minute ago. I had it, Boss; it was right here..." He lifted his head to look around his desk, glancing briefly at Ziva before double-taking as he realized she was fanning herself with the errant page. "A-ha! There it is!"

She raised an eyebrow at him as he took the paper, but let it go without comment.

"Sometime today, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked, staring steadily at his agent.

"Right. Um, Shepard's C.O. – that is, the Gunnery Sergeant's – told his secretary he'd catch the next flight back; plane's supposed to arrive around noon tomorrow. She, uh, did say that everyone seemed to like the Gunny. That his men all thought he was a great guy, you know, typical Marine." Tony looked up from his notes. "C.O. said he'd bring over the files for the inquiry himself."

Gibbs nodded, but didn't say anything for a bit. Eventually, he turned to face McGee, scrubbing a hand over his face before addressing the younger agent.

"Whatcha got, McGee?"

"The Shepards had a security system installed in their house and, judging by the pictures, it does more than your average ADT layout," he replied without looking up. He tapped a couple keys and complicated specs filled the plasma screen near his desk. "This system monitors and records each time an outer door is opened, whether or not the system is activated. Short-term records are stored in a program linked to Jeff Shepard's home computer; long-term records are kept at a central headquarters out of state."

"Can we access these records?" Ziva asked, intrigue lacing her voice.

"It's passcode protected." For the first time since he sat down, McGee looked away from his monitor to watch his teammates as Abby explained. "It'll take the password cracker a couple of hours to determine the correct combination. Can't get to the records till it does."

"12-24-1995," a quiet voice murmured and all heads turned to see Jen Shepard standing at the edge of their work area. "The code's 12-24-1995, the day Jeff and Shelley met."

"Get that record and verify the times," Gibbs muttered lowly to McGee before striding over to stand next to Jenny. "Come on. I need coffee." She nodded silently and followed his lead to the elevators.

The team watched them leave, waiting until the elevator doors had closed before turning to face each other. There was a solemn air over the group as Tony scanned each of their faces, from Abby's sorrowful eyes to McGee's serious expression and Ziva's slight frown. They stood for a second before Tony turned to start his searches.

"Come on, guys. You heard the bossman. Let's get to work."


	7. Chapter 7

Super quick update to make up for the long wait for the last one. :D Shorter chapter than the last one, but hey, it works. I've got homework due Sunday (lots of it...) so it might be a while before the next update.

BTW, for the most part, italics = flashbacks/dream sequences. Just so you know.

.:::.

The little coffee-shop was a hive of activity as agents and government employees of all kinds waited patiently and impatiently to order their lunches and beverages. She let the commotion soothe her, draw her attention away from the seriousness in Jethro's eyes. And she was pleasantly surprised to find that he was willing to allow her the lapse, remaining silent as he drank his coffee. Gradually the crowds began to thin and she was willing to turn her attention to the matter at hand. Watching as he sat down with fresh cups in his hands, Jen made herself keep her eyes on the table. Finally, he broke the silence between them.

"Tell me about them," he requested quietly and she was almost grateful for the reprieve. "You said they met on Christmas Eve?"

"At a Christmas party one of my friends was hosting. I had to beg him to come that night; he wanted to stay home with his then-girlfriend. You know, celebrate the holiday quietly." She smiled thinly, her eyes vague as she remembered. "I appealed to his girlfriend and she promised to drag his butt out of the house." Her eyes refocused and she stared at him, an old sadness weighing on her. "It was the first Christmas after Daddy killed himself."

"_Jeff, pleeease?" she begged, deliberately pitching her voice higher and more childlike. "I don't wanna go alone."_

"_No," was his very firm reply before he stalked off to the study. She stood in the hallway, staring at the closed door through the tears that filled her eyes. She heard Fran come up behind her but didn't move to acknowledge the other woman._

"_You really want him to come, don't you," Fran commented quietly and Jen nodded, tucking a curl behind her ear. The taller woman stepped over and pulled the red-head into a brief hug before turning to stare at the door. "I'll make sure he does, okay?"_

_Jen gave her a watery smile and nodded gladly, willing to use whatever means necessary to get her brother out of the house this one night._

"How'd they meet?" Gibbs asked, prompting her to keep going.

"I think Shelley ended up breaking up with her boyfriend that night," Jen continued, frowning a little as she thought. "He was one of those guys who didn't like the word 'no.'" She had to glance away from the intensity of his blue eyes, couldn't bear to look into them as she remembered.

"The boyfriend – I never did find out his name – got belligerent and wouldn't leave when Shelley asked him to. Jeff," she laughed, a choked, pain-filled sound, "Jeff hated guys who hurt women. He grabbed the guy and hauled his ass to the front-door, where – if I remember correctly – the jerk 'unfortunately' fell down the steps. Jeff made me promise to make sure his girlfriend got a ride home before personally escorting Shelley back to her apartment. I only saw Fran in passing after that and Jeff took Shelley to a New Year's Party a week later." Jen played absently with her coffee cup, smiling vaguely as she remembered better times.

Gibbs let the silence continue for a while, allowing Jenny to take in the comfort of the happy memories. When he saw her gaze shift and become more direct, he asked his next question.

"What about their marriage?"

"They didn't marry until '97, after Shelley graduated, and Kelsey was born a year later. It was a running joke with us," she explained with a smile, "that they married in January and she was born in February. Got people every time." Sighing, she rubbed a hand over her face. "She was their everything and they were the best parents to that little girl. Jeff could never deny her anything; I think he felt guilty for having to leave her so often."

"_Don't go, Daddy, please?" Kelly begged, her blue-green eyes brimming with tears as he wrapped her tightly in his arms and kissed her temple._

"_I'll see you soon, okay, baby?" he murmured before forcing himself to let her go._

Gibbs cleared his throat and rubbed his forehead, abruptly drawing Jenny's attention. As he lowered his hand, she saw a glimpse of pain in his eyes, an old hurt that somehow still seemed raw and tender. When he blinked, it was gone and she wondered if she'd really seen it at all. She filed it away for later as something to ask Abby or Ducky about, before realizing she might not see either person again.

"_Get a grip, Jen. It's just a job for him,"_ she berated herself, straightening her shoulders as she waited for his next question, knowing that those would be the hard ones to answer.

"What happened last night?" he finally asked, his voice quiet and gruff, as if he didn't really want to ask. "Beginning to end, what happened?"

"Shouldn't you have cameras or a recorder or something?" she asked in return, trying to lighten the moment and avoid the question.

"We'll get an official statement when we get back. Jenny, what happened?"

She took a deep breath, then another, trying to gather enough calm to coherently tell him. "We'd m-made plans to have dinner. It was supposed to be the week before, but there'd been an emergency surgery and I couldn't get away. So, Jeff and Shelley sent Kelsey to spend the night at a friend's house and they quietly celebrated together. I promised Jeff I'd come over Friday night and we'd do the big family thing then, to make up for my missing it.

"Dinner was supposed to be at five, but something came up and I couldn't get away in time. I tried to call and let them know, but I got the machine." Her voice broke on the last word and Gibbs knew she'd connected the unanswered call to the murders.

"Can anyone prove that?" he asked her gently.

She nodded miserably. "Dr. Dale Danson and about half-a-dozen nurses, not to mention Mr. Robertson's family."

The tall, clean-cut doctor flashed through Gibbs' mind and he made note of the name, intending to personally interview him later. He remembered the familiarity between Jen and her colleague and couldn't help but shift uncomfortably in his chair as a sour feeling coiled tightly in his gut. There was something there and, by God, Gibbs would find out what it was.

Jen cleared her throat slightly and drew a stuttering breath, trying to find the strength to continue with what would be the hardest part. "Like I told you before, I didn't see anything out of the ordinary in their neighborhood, no hint at all. I—the front door wasn't quite closed, but Kelsey sometimes doesn't get it completely shut when she goes out to play. I didn't think anything about it until no one answered me when I walked in." She swallowed thickly, but maintained her resolve. "The table was set and-- I stepped into the living room so I could look into the backyard and that's... w-when I found them."

Gibbs nodded as she fell silent. Neither noticed as the mid-afternoon lull set in and quiet descended over the coffee shop. He just watched as she scored her Styrofoam cup with a fingernail, her face drawn and sad. Unable to take anymore, he reached out and pulled the cup away, catching one of her hands in his. He turned her it palm up and, slowly, softly, gently ran a finger the length of her hand. He glanced up to see a small smile had taken the place of her misery and a soft glow had chased away the shadows in her eyes. He smiled back at her, feeling inordinately pleased when her hand turned in his, allowing him to curl his fingers around hers.

.:::.

Later that evening, Gibbs could still feel the warmth of her hand in his as he thumbed through Gunnery Sergeant Shepard's file, hoping to find some hint as to his killer. Heaving a sigh, he leaned back into his chair and scrubbed a hand over his face, feeling exhaustion begin to take root in his shoulders despite the relatively easy day he'd had. There was a lot tied up in this case and he recognized even now, this early on in the case, how necessary finding the answers was. He let his eyes drift shut as he considered what they knew and the different connections to himself he could see, not even noticing as sleep snuck up on him.

_He was back in the desert, the heat pressing down on him. The sunlight stung his eyes as he looked out of the tent, surveying the surrounding land, alert for anything. He felt a presence behind him, but paid it no attention; there were half-a-dozen men within the tent at all times. The heavy hand landing on his shoulder, though, prompted him to turn and face the man to whom it belonged._

"_Sir?" he asked, uneasy as he recognized the emotion in his superior's eyes._

"_I'm...I'm very sorry, Gunny. They're gone."_

_He turned to stare back out at the desert, numb and stunned by the news. His eyes didn't find the stark landscape, though. Trees and rolling green hills dotted with austere stones filled his vision before his eyes caught on two rich wood coffins and everything in him froze at the scene. Mechanically, he stepped forward until he could touch the burnished wood and his hand came to rest on the lid, which melted away at his touch._

_Jenny's pale, still countenance greeted him, stopping his breath in his chest. A moan tore itself from his chest as he raced around and ripped the lid off the other coffin. His knees gave out as he recognized Kelsey's soft, innocent face and he could only cling to the side of the coffin to keep from collapsing completely. A strange keening sound rose up around him, weaving eerie shadows in the air as the grief consumed him._

He abruptly sat upright in his chair, rubbing a hand over his face and through his hair as he reached to grab the phone.

"Yeah, Gibbs," he answered, his voice slightly gravelly with sleep. "Yeah, I'll be right down."


	8. Chapter 8

Sorry about the wait. I had a ton of homework, then I went to visit family and I've been just the slightest bit blocked on this chapter...blame Anne McCaffrey and her dragons...Anywho, thanks for your patience!!!

_P.S. I would've posted this on the 23rd, but the site's been...uncooperative._

.:::.

He exited the elevator as soon as the doors opened, his cup of coffee hot and grounding in his hand as he made his way over to his desk. He refused to allow himself to collapse into his chair, no matter how tired he felt. Instead, he carefully settled behind his desk and set down his cup, rubbing his face with his hands.

It had been three days since their last lead and he was beginning to feel more than a little desperate. Jenny's shadowed eyes and Kelsey's blank expression haunted him, drove him harder and shortened his temper. Sighing heavily, he pulled his hands away from his face and focused on his team.

"McGee," he said, "any luck?"

The younger agent lifted his gaze and looked at his boss, his eyes focusing slowly, Gibbs noticed. Doing a quick calculation in his head, he figured his team had been working – today, at least – over twelve hours, McGee and Abby probably longer as they manipulated the Shepards' security system and the evidence from the scene. Surreptitiously glancing around at the other members of his team, he took in Ziva's bleary gaze and the way Tony's head was propped on a hand as he flipped through a file. Nodding mentally, he refocused on McGee in time to catch the younger agent's wide yawn.

"Sorry, boss," he mumbled. "The security company can't give us much more than they have. The videos are en route, should arrive tomorrow."

Gibbs nodded and turned to face his other agents. "DiNozzo?"

Tony's head jerked up as dulled green eyes shifted from the file to his boss. "Nothing, boss. Most of the Gunny's coworkers have solid alibis and even those that didn't have no reason to want him dead, much less his wife." He flipped the file shut and shoved a hand through his hair as he continued. "There's not even any reason to believe Jeff Shepard had a jealous lover."

Gibbs withheld a flinch as he remembered how well that insinuation had gone over with Jenny. The fiery red-head had tagged him with a cold glare before politely and distantly dismissing him. That had been two days ago and she still refused to speak to him, opting instead to answer whoever else had gone with him. He nodded in acknowledgement of Tony's report.

"What about Shelley's coworkers?"

"They were shocked by the news of her death but mostly unable to tell me anything. They mentioned no problems at home or quarrels with friends. Every one of them described the Shepards as a 'perfect family.'" Ziva's voice was flat as she read off her notes.

"So we have nothing," Tony stated, his voice muffled as he buried his face in his arms.

Just as tired as the rest of his team and running on little sleep due to nightmares, Gibbs felt his tenuous control snap at the defeated comment. "_Wrong_, DiNozzo. We have a dead Marine and his wife in our morgue, his traumatized daughter still in the hospital, and his grieving sister trying to pick up the pieces. And the people responsible are still out there."

Tony's face was pale as he stared at Gibbs, who had risen from his seat as he spoke. Gibbs could feel the anger burn through him, anger at what had happened to Shepard and his family and anger at his inability to provide the survivors with answers. As the emotion washed over him, he glared at his team and Tim's wary expression, Ziva's dark eyes, and Tony's too pale face added fuel to his fury. Slamming his chair back out of the way, he stormed to the elevator and slapped the button.

Stepping inside as soon as the car was empty, he flipped the emergency stop switch. Leaning back against the wall, he buried his face in his hands, the anger dissipating as rapidly as it had risen. In its wake was exhaustion, nagging and weighing at him.

After their conversation in the coffee shop and the disastrous meeting the day after, he'd had very little contact with Jenny Shepard. Though most of him preferred it that way – she was too like Shannon and it tormented him – he found himself wanting to see her now. She wouldn't have welcomed him, though, not with the possibilities he had to consider and the team's lack of forward momentum with the case.

Sighing heavily, he stood straight again and stepped away from the wall to flip the switch, setting the elevator back into motion.

.:::.

The silence in the bullpen echoed in the wake of Gibbs' outburst as McGee and Ziva stared at each other in astonishment. Tony's face was still pale with the shock of Gibbs' words and, though he moved around his desk as though he had purpose, the slight tremors in his hands and their absolute lack of a lead belied any attempt at industry.

"Uh...Ziva, d'you want me to take a look at those statements?" McGee finally stammered. "Maybe I'll see something you didn't."

He hauled his chair over to her desk and picked up a page, leaning closer as she quietly explained to whom and what each statement referred.

Ziva glanced up at one point as Tony passed her desk, frowning slightly at the solemn expression on his face as he walked by. She wondered at the uncharacteristic response to Gibbs' explosion, but the thought was quickly forced away as McGee asked a question about one of the interviews.

.:::.

"Hey, have you—Abbs? Abby?"

"What?! I'm awake, I'm good!" she mumbled as she jerked upright, blinking owlishly up at him. "Tony! What are you— What's wrong? Is something wrong?" she asked, coming fully awake at the sight of his face.

"No, nothing's wrong," he sighed, leaning back against the workbench she'd fallen asleep on. He felt the weight of her gaze on him as he rubbed a tired hand over his face and through his hair, standing it up at odd angles. "Have you found anything?"

She watched him with a frown for a second before turning to her computer. "Well, let's see. AFIS is still searching, but I just got around to the fingerprints Ducky pulled off Mrs. Shepard and they match the fingerprints found on the banister inside." She swung around to another monitor and pulled up the file directory. "I did find something interesting on the Gunny's laptop, though. There was," she clicked on another window, "a password-protected file stored on the hard-drive. Should have the password soon."

"Call me when you do, okay?" he asked, yawning widely enough that his jaw popped. "I'm gonna go..." He gestured aimlessly toward the doorway before flashing her a half-hearted smile and leaving.

She frowned at his back as he left, then turned back to her computers, absently clicking through the contents of Jeff Shepard's laptop as she waited for results.

.:::.

The floor of the hospital was quiet as he stepped off the elevator. Mildly curious about it, he glanced at his watch and realized it had taken him forty-five minutes to drive what would usually have only taken him twenty, making it much later than he'd thought and hours after visiting-hours had ended. He mentally shrugged as he navigated the hallway; visiting hours – or the ending thereof – had never stopped him before.

Bereft of coffee, he shoved his hands into his pockets as he stood in the doorway of the room, watching the scene within. Momentary déjà vu infiltrated his senses as he stood there and let the silence envelope him while absolute stillness filled the floor. Sighing, he let himself fall against the door frame and he couldn't help the slight smile that touched his lips.

Kelsey Shepard lay, sound asleep, in her hospital bed, her arm wrapped around a stuffed elephant Gibbs knew had been a gift from Abby. Her face was innocent, peaceful as she slept, untouched by the pain and reality of her life. What really touched him, though, was Jenny Shepard curled protectively around her, as oblivious to the world around her as the child.

Time seemed to stretch and slow as he stood there in the quiet doorway, guarding the two as they slept. He didn't even miss his coffee, though the exhaustion of the last few days soon settled deep into his shoulders, softening his posture as he leaned on the doorframe. He continued to keep vigil, feeling as if he had a true, worthwhile place for the first time in a long while. He didn't even want to consider why it was he felt that way standing _there_, in the doorway to a hospital room occupied by practical strangers.

He'd started considering going home, or at least finding a chair, when he heard footsteps behind him and an irate voice shattered the still quiet that filled the hospital floor.

"Who the _hell_ are you?!"


	9. Chapter 9

Okay, I'm not even going to try to explain why it took almost 2 months exactly to update. Suffice it to say, I was blocked...or distracted...or something. ^^ And I know this chapter's a little shorter, but I figured, better this than nothing. :D

.:::.

She warily watched him from the other side of the couch, still slightly unsure how to handle the situation. Ever since raised voices outside Kelsey's room had roused her from her doze, she'd had the same kind of off-balanced feeling nagging at her. Distantly Jenny admitted it was due, in part, to her lack of sleep over the past few days, but she somehow thought it was more than that. Drawing her knees up against her chest, she leaned her cheek against a hand and snuggled into the couch back, nursing her drink and her curiosity as she watched him.

"Why..." she started but broke off and cleared her throat before trying again. "Why were you at the hospital tonight?"

Though it wasn't obvious, she had to hide a smile at his quickly masked start of surprise as she spoke. He seemed to hesitate before pursuing a different direction.

"Your boyfriend didn't seem to like me much," he chuckled, taking a swift swallow of his bourbon. She was confused by his comment for a second before her brain caught up.

"Oh. Dale isn't my boyfriend."

"Lover?"

She laughed at his less than subtle approach. "I'm not Dale's type." At the inquisitively quirked eyebrow, she elaborated. "Let's just say I haven't asked and he hasn't told." Realization dawned in his blue eyes and the warm sound of his laughter filled the room, prompting her to smile at the rare mirth he displayed. She shrugged and studied her drink. "Dale's just...protective of the patients, Kelsey in particular." She shook her head incredulously as she remembered having to step in to keep her normally placid friend from coming to blows with the ex-Marine. "Though, I've never seen him so..." She waved her hand in lieu of a descriptor.

"I like to think it was me," was his reply and she smiled at how typical the response seemed. They lapsed into silence.

"Your brother's killers are still out there and we haven't had a lead in three days," he said, abruptly shattering the quiet as he answered her original question. His blue eyes were filled with frustration and guilt and she had to glance away at the intensity of the emotions she read there. Studying her drink, she waited for him to continue, sensing there was more. "I owe that little girl – and you – answers." He dragged a hand through his hair, standing it on end. "I couldn't think straight. Had to get my head on right." He shrugged.

"And you chose the hospital as the place in which to do this," she completed the thought, nodding briefly. "But I don't-"

"Kelsey reminds me of someone I used to know," he admitted softly and the pain in his voice warned her off asking questions.

They finished their drinks in the silence that followed his statement and, as a clock chimed midnight somewhere in the house, she rose and stretched muscles that were stiff despite the comfort of the couch.

"You'll find the answers, Jethro." She smiled softly and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I trust you."

He walked her to the front door, giving her the feeling he didn't want her to leave. Her hand on the knob, she turned to look at him and, seeing the warmth in his eyes, leaned up to kiss his cheek.

At the last second, he turned his head and caught her lips with his, giving in to the tense tangle of emotions that had surrounded them since that first terrible night. In a sudden surge of sensation, she found herself twined around him as his weight pressed her against the door, her arms tight around his neck, his fingers threaded through her hair. The magic of his kiss swept all thought from her head, leaving behind only the pure burn of passion. She held her own against the onslaught, needing to be as close, to absorb as much as possible.

A flash of headlights through the nearby windows broke through her bemusement and reason came flooding back. Abruptly she stiffened, her hands on his shoulders pushing him away instead of pulling him closer. With a sigh and one last, lingering kiss, he drew back, opening his eyes to stare down at her, easily reading the quiet shadows within them. Bracing his hands on the door behind her, he lowered his head to inhale the scent of her hair.

Eyes closed, she tried to explain. "We can't –"

"– do this," he finished for her, his voice low and gravelly against her ear, sending a feather of heat down her spine. "I know."

"Yeah," she whispered back, leaning up to ghost a kiss along his jaw. Again and again, feather-light, she traced his jaw with her lips. With a half-smothered groan, his arms wrapped tight around her again as his mouth came down on hers.

Time passed in breathless silence as they savored the taste and feel of the other. Something nagged at the back of her mind, something vague and half-formed, unable to properly surface in the tide of sensation. As his mouth left hers, trailing fiery kisses down her neck, and she could finally draw a full breath, the nagging feeling finally solidified.

"We really shouldn't," she whispered and felt the instant change in him. She carded her fingers through his hair as he rested his forehead on her shoulder while they both worked to catch their breath. With obvious reluctance, he pulled away, stepping over to grab her coat.

"Lunch, tomorrow?" he offered as he held out her jacket and helped her into it.

Turning to face him as she pulled her hair out of the collar, she smiled and nodded. "Sounds good."

"I'll pick you up."

"I'll be waiting," she whispered before pressing one last kiss to his cheek and stepping out into the cold night air.

.:::.

It was a rare night when her music and faithful Caf-Pows! failed to keep her awake. Abby decided vaguely, through her exhaustion, that she deserved a moment of rest after the way the case had gone so far. With that elusive though in mind, she allowed her head to sink to her desk and gave up her tenuous hold on consciousness.

It seemed that mere minutes later a persistent beeping jerked her back to awareness. Blinking blearily, she raised blurry eyes to her computer screen and stared without comprehension at the results flashing before her. Then, with a gasp, her brain caught up and she sat upright, typing in commands to pull up the records. Smiling with glee, her exhaustion forgotten, she snatched up her phone and dialed a number. Drumming her fingers with impatience, she counted off the rings until a groggy voice answered her.

"Tony! I got a ding!" she sang. Her eyebrows drew together as she listened to the response. "Yes, I know it's," she glanced around for a clock, "4:30 in the morning, but _Tony!_ I got a match to the fingerprints you brought me." She listened again and smiled this time. "Yep." She whirled and adopted a triumphant pose.

"We've got a lead."


End file.
